Nine Lives Too Many
by Fahad09
Summary: Mr Granger felt as if the whole world was spinning as he listened to the Hogwarts Professor speak of magic, Hogwarts and his daughter being a witch. But it wasn't what the Professor was saying that had left him feeling so dumbfounded, but what he looked like. "You're a cat." "Yes," the Professor cocked his furry little head, "I thought that was obvious." AU (Not an OC or SI Fic)
1. Chapter 1: The Professor

_Chapter 1:_

 _The Professor_

"As I was saying Mr Granger, my name is Razalas Mendax and I am happy to inform you that your daughter has been accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." I announce with my best official sounding tone of voice as I sat up a little straighter, trying my best to sound eager rather than bored, as I began to recite the same opening statement for what must have been the thousandth time since I took up my post as a Hogwarts professor.

Still, it wouldn't do to let my boredom show and I did my best not let a hint of it leak into my voice. It wasn't every day that your child received their Hogwarts letter after all. To me this may have just been another mundane day at work but to them, this would be the day they discovered that magic was real and that their daughter, the young witch who was the entire reason why I was here, would find herself drawn into a world with a million more like her, and learn that she was no longer alone.

So with as much enthusiasm I could muster, I put on my best smile and continued.

"Do not let the name fool you however; despite what it's called Hogwarts is one of the most premier school of magic in the entire world and is most certainly the best on this side of Europe. I would even venture to say that our instituted is best English speaking magic school in existence. So never fear, I promise you your daughter's future is in the very best of hands and she will be sure to receive the highest level of education possible at our fine institution."

"...Alright." Came the wholly unenthusiastic reply from the balding man sitting across from me in an armchair. Rather, in spite of his answer, he didn't seem completely there. His eyes were glossed over despite being locked on me, and poor chap kept blinking and shaking his head every few seconds as if he was having trouble believing what he was seeing.

Ah, yes, I recognized the symptoms.

It was always hard for ordinary people to cope with the knowledge of magic. That the reality they had lived their entire lives believing in, the laws that they thought governed their world, was nothing but an illusion, a thin veneer that hid the truth. I was fortunate enough to have never experienced such a thing, having been born into a magical family, but I can imagine it was a rather jarring experience.

So I didn't begrudge him for his inattentive state, it was only natural to have some trouble coping. It was for that very reason why the traditional method of delivering the Hogwarts acceptance letter was forgone when it came to muggle born; instead a Professor was to hand deliver it. We couldn't even send a letter warning them we would be coming as it seemed that most parents would toss it away as a hoax.

Clearing my throat I carried on. "I understand why this can come as a bit of a shock to you but surely you must have suspected something. Floating objects, cuts healing over nights, things you were certain you placed in one room only for it to appear in another, those are all common signs of a child born with magic. We call these types of incidents 'accidental magic', and they are rather common occurrences in young wizards and witches who still haven't learn to properly harness their abilities. Often parents would see these clear signs of magic in their child only to dismiss them and try to explain them away. But I'm sure as someone who had spent the last decade raising a witch, unknowingly or not, you must have occasionally toyed with the thought that magic might be real."

"...Yes." Mr Granger tiredly rubbed his face with both hands. "As a matter of fact I have considered it, but it's not the magic part that I'm having trouble understanding." Mr Granger continued to rub his face for a moment before lowering his hands and looked at me.

"It's just…" Mr Granger held his hands in the air, as if trying to demonstrate something, only to give up and slump back into his chair before tiredly waving a hand towards me. "...You're a _cat_."

"Yes. Yes I am." I replied, cocking my furry little head as I tried to understand his point. "I believe that was obvious. What of it?"

Currently I was sitting on nice comfy sofa in the middle of the Granger's living room, which was part of a cozy little house situated near the center of the city of London. Across from me were the Elder Grangers, Daniel and Emma Granger, while kneeling next to the couch and watching me with eyes that shone as if they held all the stars in the sky was Hermione Granger, the purpose of my visit.

Oh yes, and in case I forget to mention earlier I was, as Mr Granger so aptly put it, a cat.

An Animagus to be precise. I was currently in my animal form, a black cat with smooth glossy fur and green eyes that shone like the leaves of a sunlit forest. Overall I looked like the paragon of a species that has been worshiped as gods in the past should look like, and rightly so.

And in case if it wasn't oblivious I was quite proud of my looks. _Meow._

"What of it?" I pressed, raising a nonexistent eyebrow on my feline face.

"And you teach." Granger leaned forward, trying to press his point. Though what exactly that point was, I had no idea.

"Yes," I nodded. "I am a Professor, I believe I have mentioned that already."

"To children..." He paused, his brown eyes boring into me as if imploring me to understand. "... _human_ children."

"Yes." I said slowly, as if speaking to a particularly slow-witted child. "To _human_ children, what else am I supposed to be teaching? Owls?" Twitching my noses distastefully at the thought. Owls, horrid creatures.

"But you're a Cat!"

"And you're a human." I answered back, cocking my head again. "Is that what we're doing now? Stating the obvious? Because in that case, I have to tell you, you're not fooling anyone with that comb-over."

"But you can talk!" Granger finally snapped, pointing at me in accusation.

"Hey that's rude!" Narrowing my eyes I tried my very best to set my feline face into something approaching stern rather than adorable, "I don't go around pointing out how you can talk, now do I? Do you have any idea how insulting that is? No? Then here, let me show you. Look everyone," I mimed looking around and waving invisible people in before pointing, "Look, look at the talking human. Look at him talk, isn't that amazing? Everyone clap your hands now, lets clap for the talking human, clap everyone."

Then I proceeded just to that, sitting back on my hind legs before I slowly and sarcastically began to clap my two paws together.

At my words Mr Granger just groaned in frustration and cupped his head in his hands. Seeing that this conversation was going nowhere, I gave him up as a lost cause and turned to look at the other elder Granger, Emma I believe she was called, who must clearly be the brains of the family because how else would this household be able to function if Mr Granger was considered the bright one.

"Mrs Granger, as I was trying to explain to your husband your daughter is witch, a person born with the gift of magic. And like all gifts it is something that must be trained and harnessed at a young age least it be wasted. Which is why it is imperative that she attends a magical school such as Hogwarts."

I paused, waiting for a reply, but all received was utter silence as Emma started at me with wide unblinking eyes. And I do mean unblinking, as in the last ten seconds her eyelids hadn't so much as twitched.

"...Okay." I mouthed before looking away awkwardly, feeling my ears fold flat on my skull. Well that wasn't creepy at all. Clearly I was mistaken when I dubbed her the brains of this outfit.

Fortunately there remained one more occupant in this room, and they do say third times the charm. Besides, being a witch I have no doubt that she's having an easier time accepting the existence of magic than her parents were, it was in her blood after all. And being a uniquely bright young lady, a child prodigy by all reports with an IQ level nearing the two hundreds, I had high hopes I could maintain an intellectual conversation with her in spite of her young age.

Turning to the young witch in question, whose face was barely a meter away from my own, watching me with eyes filled with wonder and awe – which was only a proper response when someone gazes on the splendor that was my feline form. She was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa I was currently resting on, her hands held tucked under chin twitching as she resisted the urge from reaching out and petting me.

Clearing my throat, I was about to speak, my mouth already open and halfway through forming a word, when young Hermione beat me to it.

"Kitty!" The bushy haired young girl exclaimed. "I'm going to school full of magical kittens!"

...I'm surrounded by morons.

Lifting my paw off my face from when I had facepalmed – or was it facepawed – I mentally cursed every deity and god out there for the existence of prepubescent girls. Here was a young lady with an IQ to rival Einstein and thirst for knowledge that would make Rowena proud, but put a cat in front of her and what happens, she reverts to a gushing squealing schoolgirl.

 _Sigh_ , still, this was better than the alternative I supposed. Matters would have probably gone a lot less smoothly had I arrived in my human form. Children tend to take it much better when a magical cat breaks the news to them rather than a tall strange man. The same applied to the parents too; I supposed it was easier to believe in magic when it came out of the mouth of a talking cat rather than a man in a robe.

"No Miss Granger, you are not going to a school of magical kittens. I believe I'm the only one currently residing in Hogwarts." I told her as I rubbed my forehead with a pawn, feeling a headache brewing.

"Actually," I paused for a second before amending, "there is one other professor that can transform into a cat. Minerva McGonagall, the current Head of Gryffindor and the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. But I'm afraid she only goes around as one part-time and only rarely at that – seems to prefer her human form for some odd reason I could never comprehend. Everyone knows it's better to be a cat." Shaking my head at Minnie's foolishness, I refocused my attention on the girl. "Other than your first lesson with her I doubt you'd ever see her in her cat form, so I'm afraid for all intents and purposes the only talking cat in Hogwarts would be me."

"Oh." The little girl mouthed, all but physically deflating and slumping forward, obviously crushed by the news.

Rolling my eyes at the obvious disappoint I decided to try and cheer her up. "But never fear Miss Granger for I too am a professor at the school, so I'm sure you'll have plenty of chances to see me as you will no doubt be attending my classes. You may even end up in my house."

"House?" Mr Granger asked, speaking up for the first time in a while. Though I couldn't tell for sure if he was actually speaking or was just repeating what I said, I decided to take it as a good sign.

"Yes, upon arriving to Hogwarts students are divided up into one of four Houses, each one named after one of the founders. I have already mention Gryffindor, the house of courage and chivalry." Deciding to put on a bit of a show, I pulled on my magic, drawing it to me with but a thought and bending it to my will as I used it to conjuror a set of knightly plate amour around my body, kitty sized of course.

Pulling up the visor that covered my face with one paw, I said. "If you have the courage to face the unknown and the heart to stand up for what you believe in, then it is here in the house of lions where you be most welcomed." Letting the visor go, I allowed it slam shut with a _clang_.

With another twist of my magic I dismissed the amour and replaced with a pair of round wire-framed glass that I set it on my nose.

"Then there is Ravenclaw, the house of wit, intelligent and knowledge." I lifted one paw to daintily shift the glasses while in my other paw I held a tiny tome – a tricky thing when you had no thumbs. Or arms for that matter. "If it is knowledge you seek and the secrets of the world you wish to discover, then there is no better place for keen mind then the raven's nest."

"Next is Hufflepuff, the House of the dedication, honestly and loyalty." Again I dismissed the props and this time conjured a bee suit around my body along with a hairband with cute little antennas on my head. "Helga was said to have moved mountains whole with nothing but her own two hands and hard work, and a truer friend than her you shall never find. And so her house welcome those who are the same; to those who seek friendship that will never break, comrades that will never betray, come, for it is here where you will find them."

Once more I dismissed my creation, the bee suit disappearing around me like a cloak of mist.

"Then there is Slytherin, the house of the cunning, ambitious and resourceful." I didn't bother to conjure anything; instead I projected an illusion of the globe before me that steadily spun on its axis. "To those who wish to make the times rather than be shaped by it, if you have the ambition and will to leave you their mark upon the world, then come to serpents' nests. For it is there where you would find the tools needed to succeed."

Having finished, I dismissed the globe and just sat there, puffing my tiny chest out in pride and waited for the enthusiastic response that my little show would no doubt elicit.

Unfortunately the parents still seen to be trapped in a stupor, because they continued to stare blankly at me, jaws hanging slightly open. Though the girl seemed appropriately impressed with the display and broke out in a delighted applause, so I called it a win.

Puffing my chest a little more, I extended my claws from one paw and buffed it on my chest before I holding them out before me to admire. "Coincidentally, I'm a Slytherin. The Head of the House actually, in addition to being the History of Magic professor."

"Would…" I looked up in mild surprise at the elder female Granger, who sounded a little strained as she spoke, "would you like me to get you something to drink?"

Ah, so she speaks at last. Not much, true, but at least its progress. At this rate I might be able to pull out full paragraphs out of her before it was time to leave. And it looks like they might be civilized after all, something I hadn't been sure of when they rather rudely failed to offer me anything to drink when I arrived earlier.

"Honey," Mr Granger looked up to his wife and waved a hand towards me, "what are you doing? He's a cat."

"And you're a human," I cocked my head to the side as I watched the man. "I thought we had established this already. Human," I pointed at him with a paw before placing it on my chest, "cat. Now say it with me until you get it right. Human, cat, human, cat."

Mr Granger just watched me numbly, not responding to my prompts.

Turning to the young Granger I raised a paw to cover my mouth as I spoke in a staged whisper, "Not very bright this one, is he?"

Hermione giggled before clamping her hands over mouth and turned to stare wide eyed at her father. But Mr Granger just groaned and dropped his head into his hands, obviously overwhelmed. Poor chap.

"If it wouldn't be too much of a bother," I turned to look at Mrs Granger, "I would really appreciate something to drink. I'm afraid I'm feeling a tad peckish."

"Of course, it's no problem at all." Mrs Granger seemed to regain a little more life in her, no doubt taking comfort in the familiarity of formality and made her way to the kitchen. She paused right at the threshold, freezing in place with indecision just as she was to step out of the room. Taking a hesitant glance over her shoulder at me, she awkwardly asked. "Would some milk do?"

"Madam, I am not an animal." I told her in my most posh tone of voice as I placed a paw on my chest. "I'm British. As such, tea will do nicely."

She didn't look like she knew what to say to that so just nodded weakly before heading back to the Kitchen.

"Though I would appreciate it if you could serve it in a bowl please." I called out to Mrs Granger before she disappeared. I held up by paws in explanation. "I never got the hang of drinking from a cup. No thumps you see."

She just nodded numbly and continued on her way, not saying a word.

"Well, things are going splendidly. Far better than my usual visits." And it was true, I haven't been called a spawn of Satan and smacked with a Bible yet, which was always a pleasant surprise. You wouldn't believe how much getting thumped on the head by a book that thick hurts until you experience it yourself.

I felt my kitty sense tingling and without so much as turning to look, I firmly pushed away the hand sneaking up behind my head and held it down, trapping it against the sofa with my paw.

"Now Miss Granger," I turned to look at the owner of the hand. "Didn't anyone tell you it's rude to touch someone without permission?"

"But I just wanted to pet you." Hermione explained, the hand that I had trapped under my paw betraying her eagerness as it twitched.

"And rightly you should want to," I nodded in understanding, truly, I couldn't blame the girl for wanting to feel my fur, it was rather fabulously soft, "but I'm afraid that now is not the time for it. I need to get you parents up to date with the situation as soon as possible. If not, I'm afraid we won't be able to get your school books before the morning rush hour."

At the word books, Hermione lost all interest in my fur and I found myself staring into her large eyes as she somehow managed to teleport herself right before my face, " _Books_? We can buy magical books in London?" She asked, her eyes all but blazing with an unholy light at the very thought.

"Yes, yes we can get books in London." I said as I pushed aside her face with both paws. Well, at least I knew which house she belonged in. If this girl wasn't a Ravenclaw, I'd eat my tail. "Quite nearby actually."

"Where?" She asked.

At that, I couldn't help but smile.

"Diagon Alley."

* * *

 _ ***Chapter End***_

 _ **Author's Note:**_ This little plot bunny had been jumping around in my thoughts for a while now, and refused to let me go until I typed it out. And so when I had enough I sat down and typed this out in more or less than a single sitting. And while I am busy with my other stories - which are a priority - I wanted a story that I can right for fun and unwind. So if this chapter is well received and I decided to continue with the story, I plan to release several small chapters that I type out in my spare time rather than the twenty thousands word behemoths like my other stories that takes weeks to finish at a minimum.

As for **Warning Tags** : AU with the history of the HP world greatly altered, along with magic system. No Slash. Non-Canon plot.

Oh and this is _**NOT an OC**_ story and **_NOT A Self-Insert_**. The main character is based on a character in the canon verse. As for who it is, well you have to figure that out for yourselves. And yes, the main character will be spending most of this fic as a cat.

And I think that's it. I'm not as familiar with harry potter verse as I am Fate/stay or Naruto (I've read the books but it was a long while ago), so it will be a nice challenge to write.

Be sure to leave me a review on your way out and tell me what you thought of the chapter. Loved it, hated it? Should I continue? Any and all reviews would be appreciated, so please tell me what you think.

And as always, thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2: A Cat, a Witch

**Author's notes:** And here we have it, chapter two. I can't believe I managed to type it out in only two days but what can I say, all your positive responses and good will must have inspired me.

Now, I'm not completely happy with the chapter to be my honest, I'd feel it isn't my best work. To much information but its a necessary chapter that will help develop the story later on, and it does get better towards the end. I did my best to make it as entertaining as I could so hopefully you'll enjoy and we can get to the really fun part later on the following chapters – The very next chapter is something I'm really looking forward to typing.

And those asking for my Naruto fic 'A world full of monsters' I'm working on the new chapter as we speak and it will be released this month. I'm aiming for a Christmas release.

Now, onto the show.

* * *

 _Chapter 2:_

 _A Cat, a Witch and her parents walked into a bar_

The black cab pulled to a stop on Charring across before its back door was pushed open and the entire of the Granger family step out, bringing me along with them. Though unlike them I didn't have to walk as I found a perfectly comfortable perch on Hermione's shoulders, where I was currently curled around her neck.

True her hair was a little bit bushier that I would have ordinary preferred, her brown locks blocking my sight at times, but it was that very same texture that it made it so comfortably soft to lie on. Her hair felt divine, warm and smooth like the silk pillow I had back my office. Which was why I choose to ride with her rather than her father despite the better height advantage he provided, and besides, there was no way I could find a comfortable spot on such a shiny bald head anyway.

Unfortunately I was unable to get the chance to relax and enjoy my new seating arrangements because my importune chair just wouldn't shut up.

"When do I get a wand? And why don't you have one Professor? I thought you said I couldn't do any magic without one. And what exactly is a wand anyway? Are they just ordinary sticks or do they have to be made from something special?" On and on she went. The moment we had set foot into the cab she apparently got over whatever awe she was feeling and started babbling at thousand miles per hour, firing questions faster than I could process them, let alone answer, to the point that I finally gave up trying. And my lack of response did nothing to discourage her, if anything she took my silence as an opportunity to ask even more questions. "What kind of spells will I learn when I get to Hogwarts? _Oh_ , do you think I be able to learn to become a cat like you?"

Dear lord did I peg her right when I dubbed her a Ravenclaw. I haven't heard such a non-stop barrage of questions since the time Dumbledore came out of the closet.

Finally having enough, I placed both paws over her mouth in an attempt to physically restrain her from speaking. "Hush human, hush." I commanded as I brought my tiny face to hers, leveling my eyes with her own. "Remember Hermione, brevity is the soul of wit. I understand that is all new and exciting to you and you must have a thousand question that you want to ask, but I can't do that if you ask them all in one go. I promise you that I'll do my best to answer them but please, one question at a time, alright?"

I refused to move my paws until she nodded and I was sure she wouldn't start firing question the moment I freed her mouth. Sighing in relief that she calmed down, and that my ears were safe, I removed my paws from her lips as I curled my body around her neck and shoulders, shifting around a little before settling in. "Now, a good chunk of your questions can easily be answered just by entering Diagon Alley. The old proverb 'seeing is believing' has never been truer than it is here. There is nothing quite like visiting Diagon Alley for the first time. Just be patient for a few minutes longer, we'll hurry on through the Leaky Cauldron and you'll see it for yourself."

"And where exactly is this Leaky Cauldron," Mr Granger cut into our conversation, having returned from paying the cab fare. He swirled his head around, scanning the streets for the store in question, "I can't see it. As a matter of fact, I don't remember there being a pub anywhere around here. Are you sure you have the right addresses Professor."

"I see it Dad. It's over there." Hermione pointed excitedly at the Leaky Cauldron, tugging on her mother's hand.

"Where?" Emma Granger squinted at the direction her daughter pointed at, unable to spot the Cauldron despite it being barely twenty yards away. Her eyes almost seemed to glaze over whenever she tried to focus on it, leaping from between the clothing store and the drugstore that bracketed the Leaky Cauldron, skimming over but never actually settling on the Cauldron itself. "I don't see it."

"It's right _there._ " Hermione emphasized, looking up at her parents in confusion when they failed to spot it after several more seconds. "Mum, Dad, can't you see it?"

"See what?" Emma gave up trying to spot the Cauldron and looked down at her daughter. "Hermione what are you going on about?"

"Ah yes, I almost forgot." I nudged my head against Hermione, bring her attention back onto me. "Don't bother trying, they won't be able to see it."

"See what?" Dan echoed his wife in bewilderment.

"The Leaky Cauldron is a magical establishment," I ignored Dan in favor of explaining the situation to the young witch, "as such it have wards in place to keep anyone non-magical from ever finding it. No matter how hard you try you'd never be able make them see it, even if they stood just two paces away their eyes will just slide of the store as if it wasn't there."

Comprehension slowly began to dawn in Hermione's eyes as she looked from between her parents and the Cauldron. I could see her mind chew on this new information and before she could try and sneak in another question, which I had no doubt was coming, I turned to face Dan and Emma. "Here, please grab onto my tail." I said while offering my tail out to them. "Gently please, it's rather sensative."

Dan gave my tail a rather odd look before he glanced back to me. "…why?" He asked with a queer look on his face.

"So I can cast a spell on you that will exclude you from the ward's effects." I explained patiently. "Normally I'd just fire a spell but in a crowded street like this that's just asking for trouble, so well have to go with the more subtle route and rely on physical contact."

The variation of the notice-me-not spell I had cast on myself kept the crowd around us from noticing me, but only if I remained inconspicuous. If I did something to bring attention to myself, like say fire a spell that glowed like ball of fire, people will most definitely notice.

Dan and Emma glanced at one another, communicating silently in the way only people who spent years in each other's company could do, and they must have come to some kind of agreement because Emma shrugged, before they both reached out to take hold of my tail.

A heartbeat and a quick spell later, they were freed from the effects of the wards. You could tell the precise moment it happened too as their eyes almost seemed to bulge out of their sockets as they finally caught sight of the Leaky Cauldron. From their point of view it must have felt like it popped out of thin air.

"But-but that wasn't there a moment ago." Mrs Granger finally managed to say as she came out of her shock, in a far shorter time than it took her to get over meeting me thankfully. We would spend all day standing around if I had to calm them down after every time they saw a bit of reality bending magic.

"Actually it was," I corrected her, "you just couldn't see it. Now come on, times a wasting." I nudged Hermione's cheek with my head before nodding towards the door. "We better hurry if we don't want to get caught up in the morning rush hour."

While the elder Grangers seemed content to gap at the Cauldron for a while longer, Hermione didn't share the sentiment and all but rocketed towards the door, forcing her parents to quickly follow least they get left behind. A few seconds later a bell rang over our head as we pushed our way through the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"This is the secret entrance to the wizard world?" Mr Granger peered around the admittedly seedy looking pup with barely concealed skepticism, careful not to touch anything. "It looks rather…mundane to be honest." He finished, though I had a feeling he had different adjective in mind to describe the place.

"That's the entire point." Leaping off Hermione shoulders and onto a nearby table, I turned to face the Grangers. "Remember that the existence of magic is a secret from the general public, and it is the responsibility of each and every witch and wizard to make sure it remains that way – including their parents." I gave a pointed glance to the elders Grangers. "Which is why the Leaky Cauldron looks the way it does, to make sure no one would every suspect it to be anything more than an ordinary pub. Most of the dirt and grim you see are nothing more than illusion, a glamor. While repellent charms are all well and good to keep away uninvited muggles - that's the colloquial term for non-magical people by the way – its not perfect. From time to time people manage to slip through, either because they were a squibs born to muggle parents – squibs are people who are born with the ability to sense magic but not the ability to use it – or they managed to come into possession of a magical item which they carry around with them, which could cause the wards to confuse them as magical themselves, or a myriad other little reasons. Then there is always a chance that someone might have a camera pointed in this general direction and snap a picture. Those smart phone cameras have been causing us nothing but headaches over the last few years."

"Which is why no obvious signs of magic are allowed near the main entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, despite the charms keeping away the muggles." I was about to continue my little speech when I interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice calling my name.

"Professor Mendax." I swirled my head around at the sound. "I see you've brought some guests along with you again."

"Tom," I quickly spotted him standing behind the bar counter, cleaning a dirty glass with an even dirtier looking rag. Taking off in a trot, I began to make my way to the bar by walking across the tables tops, weaving my way around the mugs and plates of the patrons enjoying their breakfast or an early drink, and leaping over the gaps between tables until I landed on the counter. "Yup, it's that time of year and I got a brand new batch of first years coming through. I just got started with my first family today."

"Ah, let me introduce you," turning to look over my shoulder at the Grangers who had followed close behind, I held out a paw towards Tom, "Grangers this is Tom, the proprietor, innkeeper and barman of the Leaky Cauldron. Not only does Tom make the best breakfast you can find in Diagon Alley, but he watches over the entrance and makes sure no one goes in there that isn't supposed. If you ever want to come here without me, or if you need directions to a particular store, he's the man to talk to."

Looking back at Tom, I pointed at Hermione. "Tom, this is Hermione Granger, a first-generation witch, and her parents, Daniel and Emma Granger. Hermione here just got accepted in Hogwarts and I'm helping them get their school supplies and settled in. First time in the magic world and all you understand."

"That I do Professor." Tom nodded jovially, sparing the Grangers a welcoming smile. "It's always a joy to see new faces around here. Can I offer you a drink, on the house?"

"Thank you but no." Denial eyed the brown stained glass Tom was wiping with a dirty rag distastefully, incapable of noticing that both the glass and rag were perfectly clean under the glamor. "It's a little too early in the morning for me to start drinking, you understand."

"Suit yourself." Tom shrugged before setting the glass down on the counter. Pulling back his index finger, Tom flicked the top of the glass, sending it ringing, while simultaneously releasing a burst of magic from his finger. The glamor surrounding the glass unraveled, falling apart like deck of cards at his touch. In a blink of an eye what was smudged, dirty drinking ware that not even a beggar would be caught dead drinking from transformed into pristine glass so clean that it sparkled even in the dimly lit bar.

Tom's eyes twinkled as he watched the Grangers stare with marvel at the little bit of magic. The old coot always did love playing cheap parlor tricks with the new the children and their muggle parents, just to see their reactions. "So young lady," after letting them stare for few more seconds, Tom turned his attention to Hermione, "are you looking forward to you first year at Hogwarts?"

"Very much so." Hermione looked up and nodded eagerly, "I don't know much about it other than what the Professor had told me but from what I heard it must be wonderful."

"That it is, that is." Tom chuckled and nodded. "There is no place quite like it in all the world, Hogwarts is one of kind, it is. Why I'd go as far and say it's a magical place if it wasn't, well, you know, actually magical. I still remember when I was I young lad studying there myself so many years ago."

"You were a student there too?" Emma asked. She had been examining the rest of the pub, taking in the sight of it's many oddly dressed customers but when Tom brought up his time at Hogwarts, she focused on him with sudden interest.

"Aye, I was." Tom admitted as he picked up another perfectly clean glass and started wiping. "Most people you'll meet around here are."

"If you don't mind, can you tell us a little bit more about Hogwarts?" She asked, "We only learned that the school even existed today and if we're going be sending our daughter there, I'd like to at least hear someone's opinions on the place." She shot me an apologetic smile. "No offense Professor, but as someone who worked there you opinion might be a little biased."

"None taken." I nodded in understanding. It was true too, there was no denying I was more than a little biased when it came to Hogwarts.

But still, I couldn't feel a little sad inside. People tended to be so distrustful these days. If you couldn't trust a cat to tell you the truth, then who could you trust? Not dogs certainly.

"Certainly. I'd be happy to help." Tom agreed readily, setting down the glass and tossing the rag over his shoulder. "Though I admit it was a while since I spent any real time there personally, not since I was a wee lad myself. It must have been, oh about a century or so ago but I still remember it like it was yesterday."

"Wait a century?" Mr Granger cut in, "Surely you must be joking, you can't possible be more than fifty….you are joking, right?" Towards the end, Daniel's words came out more hesitantly as he slowly realizing that if witches, wizards, magic and talking cat were real, then why couldn't something like long lived people be real as well.

"Nope," Tom shook his head, "born 1899 on the month of August, and I graduated from Hogwarts at seventeen. So that makes it just a couple of years short of a full century since I've studied there. "

The Granger looked understandably gobsmacked at the revelation.

"Don't look too surprised." Their attention shifted to me. "As you have no doubt summarized, wizards and witches tend to have a much longer natural life spans than their non-magical counter parts – all magical creatures do really. Depending how well they master their magic, a witch or wizard can live for upwards of several centuries, though most tend to top out at around a hundred and fifty years at most. If Hermione here is as talented as I suspect she will be, then there is a good chance she may live to see her second century."

Hermione beamed at my assessment of her abilities, while her parents appeared to be having a little trouble wrapping their minds on the thought of their daughter living to be so old.

"Though unfortunately most wizards never get to live anywhere near as long as their natural lifespan might imply." I grimaced, "As they say, 'curiosity killed the wizard'."

"You mean the cat." Hermione cut-in in an attempt to correct me.

"No, don't be silly, we cats aren't anywhere as stupid as you humans tend to be." Sighing, I sat down on my haunches and tried to explain. "You must understand that magic is a very powerful tool. While it can be used to save lives, conjuror miracles, and make every day living easier in general but that's only true when it is handled correctly. A badly cast spell can easily hurt someone, and that someone more often than not tended to be the caster. Which is why we start training witches and wizards at such a young age, to make sure that doesn't happen. Unfortunately training them is _all_ we can do, as despite our best attempts, no one even managed to discovered a spell to impart common sense. Something human in general, and wizards in particular, seem to be especially lacking in."

"You have no idea how many times people have tired to summon an abomination from the great beyond, only to be surprised when said abomination starts eating their face." I felt my tail wave in the air behind me, giving away my agitation. "I swear, do I really need to hold a class called 'Why not to to summon abominations from the great beyond 101' for people to learn not to do it? I mean what part of _summoning an abominated from the great beyond_ sounds like a good idea." I shock my head at the folly of men, "And yet ever few decades we find one poor fool who tired. And then there is the rubber duck incident." I looked to the side and grimaced. "Anyway, lets just say that due to a staggering lack of common sense at times, lack of self preservation instincts or just plain unlucky accidents, the real average life expectancy of wizards tend to hover around the mid-to-late 80s. Pretty good compared to the muggle world but-" I just ended the conversation with a shrug, not feeling the need to say anymore.

"Professor," Hermione pipped up, a curious look on her face, "if wizards can live for so long, then how old are you?"

"Miss Granger," I have turned to give her a mock stern look, "haven't you been told its rude to ask a cat's age?" The girl looked taken a back, and just as she was about to say something as an apology, I spoke up, "No? Good, because it isn't." I stiffed an urge to chuckle, "To be perfectly honest Miss Granger, I don't remember the exact year of my birth. It just wasn't such a big deal back then as it is today. But lets say I'm old enough to still remember a time when everyone was convinced that those light-bulb thingamajigs, that Edison fellow from the colonies created would never catch on and were just a passing fade."

"Come now, I thought it would be obvious that I'm long lived," feeling a Cheshire grin grow on my lips – now there was a cat to admire, "We cats do have nine whole lives to go through after all."

Unexpectedly, the Grangers didn't appear to have much trouble getting over the knowledge of my true age. Good, it looks like they were finally starting to get used to the magical world. Well, that or after so many surprises they were just becoming numb to feel anything anymore. Either way worked just fine for me.

"Anyway," Mrs Granger shook her head and turned back at Tom, "you were saying about Hogwarts."

"Ah, that's right." Tom took a moment to gather his thoughts before carrying on with a smile, "Like I said it was a while back but I still remember it as some of the happiest years of my life, I can say that much for sure. Its not just the magic you learn that makes it special, its the place itself and the people in it. Met most of my greatest friends while I was there, my wife too if you can believe it. We were both sorted into Hufflepuff. But what I miss the most about Hogwarts was the castle itself. I'd spend hours just wandering thought its halls and exploring the place, somehow managing to find something new about it every day. I was convinced it was alive at times, the way all the rooms and hallways kept moving about, not to mention the portraits. The headmaster at the time, Dippet, was bit of an arse but other than that I was really lucky to have attended Hogwarts that year. Best of times then, the class were always full and almost every room in the castle was in used, not like today."

"Attendance is down I take it?" Mr Granger asked. "I understand that happening all over the world these days. People not having as many children."

"Aye, there just isn't as many kids around these days as back then. Or at least there weren't as much a decade ago. Ah, there was a time when I'd have well over two hundred new students walking through my pub every year on their way to get school supplies. These days I'd be lucky to have a third that many. Which is why I'm happy to see more new faces walking in," He nodded towards Hermione, "good to see them back on the rise again. Things had been looking bleak for a while but I'm happy to say things are getting better over the last couple of years. Unless I've missed my guess I'd say this is the biggest haul of students Hogwarts has had for a good long while, isn't that right Professor."

"Yes, we're getting a hundred new children in total this year." Which was a relief to everyone working at the school. It was hard, almost heartbreakingly so to see Hogwarts with so little kids in it. The old castle had been designed to hold upwards of two thousand kids in mind with room to spare, and its halls felt so empty in the last few years, even when school was in session. There just wasn't enough kids. "And by all accounts well be having a good deal more next year. It's all thanks to the baby boom we had following the war."

"War?" Mr Granger looked taking aback, "You had a war?"

"No, no, not really." I shook my head before scratching my ears with my hind-legs, feeling a tad awkward. It wasn't an easy to air out Magical Britain's dirty laundry to people who you are trying to convince is a good place to leave their child in. "War is the wrong word for it. It was more like a string of terrorist attacks, all orchestrated by a mad man who went by the name of Voldemort-"

A young lad sitting on a stool next to the counter a few feet away from us, reacted to the name. He was a skinny man with short brown curls, and he must have been deep into his drink for a while now because his cheeks and nose were flushed red and his unsteady posture kept swaying as he laid hunched over the counter, looking as if a gentle breeze would be enough to knock him over. He had been groggy blinking down into his mug the entire time we had been speaking, as if it held some kind of secret in it, while taking an occasional sip from time to time, but at Voldemort's name he seemed to startle awake.

Shooting straight up in his chair, the man raised his mug into the air and yelled out, "Headshot!"

His yell was followed by the rest of the pub's patrons cheering while raising their mugs in a toast. " _Headshot_!."

The Grangers looked around started at the noise from the suddenly animated patrons but I just laughed. "Ahahaha, dear lord do I love it when they do that." Tail swishing behind me I looked up at the confused Grangers, "It's a tradition you see. Whenever someone's says Voldemort-"

Another round of ' _Headshot_ ' and raised mugs followed.

I pointed at the rest of the pub, "-That happens."

"Good God," Mr Granger exclaimed, "Why?

"Because that's how the wanker died." The drunken man who started the first cheer answered. The wizard mimed putting a gun to his head and firing, "By having his head blown up by a high caliber sniper rifle."

I could see that his words did nothing but confuse Mr Granger even further, not to mention the rest of his family, so I decided to step in.

"We really must be going soon if we want to miss the morning rush but I guess it wouldn't hurt if we remained a few minutes longer." I said as I settled down on the counter, "Beside, I am the History of Magic Professor, I would be remiss if I missed out an opportunity to impart some of our history." I pointed a paw at Hermione, "Miss Granger, you'll be tested on this, so pay attention and be sure to take notes."

To my complete and utter surprise, Hermione just nodded seriously at me before pulling out a notepad and pen from somewhere. After testing the pen out by scribbling a few words, Hermione refocused her attention back onto me, pen and paper held at the ready.

Needless to say my paw found my face again as I facepawed.

I had no idea if she actually carried around some paper and pens with her just in case she needed them, or if it was a burst of accidental magic she triggered though sheer will alone that brought them into existence, and frankly I wasn't sure which possibility was more disturbing.

Yup, definitely a raven. The only way she wouldn't get into Ravenclaw was if Dumbledore got the blasted hat drunk again.

"Yeah, that was my fault," I muttered as I lifted my paw off my face. "Miss Granger, I'm only joking, there is no test."

Instead of looking relived, the poor girl seemed actually seemed to be crushed. "...Oh."

What ever happened to kids _not_ wanting to study?

Shaking my head, I decided to ignore her reaction and get back to the matter on hand. Clearing my throat, I adopted what I thought of as my lecturing voice, "To make a long story short about oh, it must be a little over twelve years now, the magical world has been suffering under a string of terrorist attacks. While some people at a time called it a civil war but in truth that was more than a little bit of an exaggeration as the Death Eaters – what the terrorist referred to themselves as – didn't number even half a thousand members even during the peak of their power. The leader of the Death Eaters was a dark wizard known as Voldemort-"

" _Heads_ _ho_ -"

"Stop that." I snapped at pub's occupants before they could finish their toast, sending them a stern glare that I usually reserved for my most disruptive students. "I'm in the middle of a story, don't interrupt. You lot can drink as much as you want after I'm done."

The pub occupants grumbled loudly at that but they finally settled down and set their mugs back onto the table, if only reluctantly. One of the patrons, a man sitting near the back of the room, pulled out a napkin and began making a tally on it with his wand, probably to mark down every time I mention Voldemort so that they can toast afterwards.

"Ahem," I turned back to my audience, "like I was saying, their leader Voldemort was a man who supported the ideology of blood supremacy. Think Nazi but with wizards instead of Aryan. The man believed that those with magic were superior to those without, and went as far as to say that those who were born from magical families were better than first-generation wizards – those who were born from muggle parents. Naturally that's a bunch of nonsense as there has never been any evidence supporting his claims, but when has reason and logic every held any sway when it came to people's beliefs." I said with a shrug.

"Things were getting pretty bad for a while, there were a lot of death and people were beginning to get too scared to leave their homes. More than one family ended up leaving the country all together to escape the violence. But it was then, when the Death Eaters were in the peak of their power, that Voldemort decide to attack ordinary muggles. Up until then he had limited his attacks to wizarding world and its citizens, but after experiencing so much success he grew confident and began to venture onto the muggle world. And as it turned out, this would be his biggest and last mistake.

"You see there are certain sects in the British government that is very much aware of the magical society, and they had been keeping a close eye on the situation. And when the deaths started leaking out from our side into theirs, well, they were understandably not happy with the development. After the first dozen or so reported deaths, they got fed up of waiting for wizards to handle the problem and decided to step in by sending in their own special forces to deal with it, a counter-terrorism division of the SAS."

"The SAS and the Death Eaters ended up clashing not too far from here, right in middle of Diagon Alley." I nodded toward the direction of the alley.

"How did it end Professor?" Hermione asked as she started at the direction I indicated.

"Oh, Voldemort got crushed. It was a total massacre, the counter-terrorism unit steamrolled over the Death eaters like they were children. The whole thing didn't even last three full minutes...it was actually rather anti-climactic to be honest.

"But don't get the wrong impression, the Death Eaters weren't weak, it just that there had no experience fighting against a well trained unit of soldiers using modern weaponry. As terrorists, most of their targets have been civilians or the occasional Auror – magical police officer -, they had no idea what they were up against when they faced the SAS. Old Voldemort himself was said to put up a hell of a fight. At one point he managed to hold off over a dozens troopers alone. All twelve of them were firing a constant barrage of bullets from their assault rifles but they couldn't so much as put a scratch on him. He just raised up his arms and all the projectiles fired his way stopped in mid-air long before it reached him, leaving the SAS with no way to harm him. The best they can do was pin him down for a time.

"But that ended up being enough. For you see as Voldemort's attention was held by the troops in front of him, he failed to notice the sniper sneaking out onto the rooftop of a nearby building behind him. Then the next thing anyone knew, there was a clap of thunder followed by Voldemort's head exploding. The fighting just paused as everyone stared at the now headless corpse of the fallen Dark Lord, plunging the entire battlefield into silence. And in the utter silence that followed, a voice could be hear coming from the distance rooftops yelling, ' _H_ _eadshot_ '."

" _H_ _eadshot!"_ The entire pub's occupant seemed to cheer, raising a toast to the sniper who brought down the 'Great Lord' Voldemort. Despite interrupting my story again, I decided to let it go and forgive them this one time.

The entire story was true by the way, every last word of it, I saw it happen with my own two eyes. I hadn't been in England at the time, actually I wasn't in Europe at all, and haven't been for quite a long time. In those years I was exploring Asia, exploring the magical societies and creatures of the Orients, but I had been keeping an ear open for any news from my old home so I was aware of the newest Dark Lord that had recently cropped up. I had no interest in interfering. Dark Lords have a tendency to deal with themselves if you gave them enough rope to hang themselves with and besides, they were often a sign of a bigger problem. It was best to allow people to fix their own problems or how else were they supposed to learn from their own mistakes.

Besides, at the time I was shacked up with this kit in Japan that could do things with her tails that you just wouldn't believe.

But when I heard _how_ latest Dark Lord ended up getting himself killed, I just had to see it for myself. So I hurried back over here as fast as I could, made a quick stop at Hogwarts along the way to pick up my time-turner from where I had it stored in my old office, apparated to Diagon Alley and went back in time.

I got a front row seat to the whole thing too, no one ever notices a stray cat sitting on the rooftops. And I have to say all the effort was completely worth it. The face Voldemort made before his demise was utterly hilarious. They way he sneered at the guns pointed at him, talking down to the soldiers as they fired round after round at him dismissively only to have his head blown up mid-monologue. If only you could have seen his face, well it's gone now, but trust me that look, it was to die for.

Once the crowd quieted down, I continued with the tale. "After that the SAS ended up moping up the rest of the battlefield with almost no resistance. Most of the Death Eaters were so stunned by what happened they hardly ended up putting much of a fight. And that was how Voldemort's reign of terror ended. Not by diplomacy or reason, but by a high caliber bullet through the brain."

Violence, the solution to all life's problem. If it doesn't work, then you're just not using enough of it.

I caught sight of one of the customers near the back of the pub raising his hand up, like a student asking permission to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. I immediately recognised him as the one who has been keeping a tally of all the times I said Voldemort.

"Yes," I told him wryly, "you can all go back to your drinking games now."

The entire pub cheered, before they began yelling out 'Headshot' again and again followed by a swing of their drink to make up for all the times they missed. And people say it was the Irish who love their alcohol.

Shaking my head, I turned to face the Granger family even as I silently erected a weak privacy field around us to dampen most of the noise from the now rowdy crowd.

"And while Voldemort's reign of terror has caused a lot of damage, it ended up doing a lot good too. His death triggered a new age of innovation to the magical world. Previously, many wizards had the misconception that magic was superior to technology in every way, which partly the reason why wizards had shunned it for so long – the other reason was because electronics kept randomly breaking down when its exposed to too much magical energy. But when that same technology ended up putting down the greatest Dark Lord since World War II in a single day, when all the magic they had in their dispose couldn't do it after years of trying, well, that changed a lot of people's minds and wizards have been trying to incorporated magic into modern technology ever since. Ten years ago the magical world had the technological level of a third-world country at best, but we have made leaps and bounds since then.

"While we we still can't seem to find a way to make electronics work near magic, we are working on making the magic equivalent of electric circuits. And I'm told we're close to making a breakthrough. So while we are still lagging behind the worlds standards, we are quickly closing the gap. Give us another decade or two and I'm sure we'll catch up."

"And speaking of electronics," I turned to look up at the elder Granger's as I pointed to Tom with my tail, "you may want to leave you cellphones here with Tom here for safe keeping. So far you've only been exposed to minute amount of magical energy but once we're in Diagon Alley that's going to change. Anything that runs on electricity will breakdown in seconds so you better leave it here unless you want it ruined."

The Granger obediently did as I suggested and handed Tom their phones, who slipped them into a drawer under the counter.

"Now I know you probably have a lot more questions to ask but we really need to get going if we want to beat the crowd, so I'm afraid we'll have to talk as we walk." I leap off the counter and back onto Hermione's shoulder, warping my body behind her neck before settling down and making myself comfortable. "Miss Granger, if you'd be so kind as to head towards the back of the Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley is there."

Hermione obeyed without question, with her parents following close behind.

"Now Miss Granger, our first stop in Diagon Alley will be Gringotts, the wizarding bank. We have to make a quick stop there to pick up some funds before we can begin shopping but it will also give you a chance to get acquainted with your first true species of magical creatures. They are my absolute favorite magical race that I like to spend time with really."

"Really?" Hermione turned her eager brown eyes to where my head rested on her right shoulder, "What are they?"

"Goblins."

* * *

 _ ***Chapter End***_

 **Author's notes:** And there is the 2nd chapter of this tale. Not completely happy but I hope you enjoyed it never the less. As you can see a lot of history has been changed, and I hope you found poor Voldemort demise as amusing as I did.

Comedy will be back in full force in the next chapter, got some of my best jokes lined up and plenty of sarcastic cat humor along with plot twists as I reveal more of this world. So be sure to look forward to it.

That's all for now, I hope you enjoyed yourself and please be sure to leave a review on your way out. And thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3: They fight like Cats and Gobl

_Chapter 3:_

 _They fight like Cats and Goblins_

"Good morning, Griphook. It's great to see you again. How have you been?"

"…I will get to you in a minute." Griphook didn't bother to look up, his long nose pointed downwards as he continued to scribble on the open ledge from where he sat behind the counter.

"That well? Good, good." I carried on cheerfully as if I hadn't heard him. Leaping off Hermione's shoulder to her father's, I used his greater height to jump onto the counter. Setting myself down in front Griphook's ledger, I placed a paw on my chest. "Oh, me? I've been just fine. Thanks for asking by the way, nice to see you care. As always your manners are impeccable Griphook."

Griphook showed no signs of noticing my existence, his focus completely on the ledger, quill flowing over the parchment without pause.

Looking back at the Grangers, I pointed at the goblin, "Such a polite fellow, Griphook is."

The elder Grangers were clearly fascinated by Griphook's appearance, and they were trying very hard not stare at the Goblin despite doing preciously that. They've been doing a lot of that ever since they stepped onto Diagon Alley, gaping at everything and everyone around them while simultaneously trying to hide it as to not offending anyone by their overt staring. They need not bothered. Everyone knows that a lot of newcomers come through Diagon Alley at this time of year so we've all gotten use to them. It was expected for muggles to stare during their first time in the magical world.

Hermione however appeared to be a little taken aback by the goblin's appearance. While she too had been eagerly looking about and asking questions with all of her usual flare, she was now subdued. She kept peeking out from behind her mother, not saying a single word since we stepped into Gringotts.

Now that just wouldn't do. I couldn't have one my future students frightened from one little goblin, it would give the little buggers the wrong impression. Better cut this off problem the bud, before it grows into something bigger.

Besides, Griphook was ignoring me, which naturally couldn't be allowed to pass. You couldn't just go around ignoring a cat, it just isn't done. We are the ones who are supposed to ignore you, not the other way round. That was the natural order of things, and it was time for me to set things right.

So rising to my feet, I made my way around the ledger to Griphook's side before leaping up onto the goblin's shoulder, then onto his shinny bold head.

Griphook froze, quill pausing in mid-stroke. His eyes never left the ledger as I very deliberately began to circle on his head, making sure to pull on his skin with my paws as I did so, before plopping myself down. Crossing my paws beneath my head, I looked down at Griphook with mock surprised.

"Oh, am I bothering you? So sorry about that Griphook, I was just making myself comfortable. Please carry on with your work and act as if I'm not here, just pretend as if you have your hair back or something."

There was a moment of silence then with a long suffering sigh, Griphook did just that and carried on with his writing, determined to keep ignoring me. Probably in some vain hope I'd go away.

Silly goblin, you couldn't out ignore a cat.

From the edge of my eye I caught sight of Hermione trying to fight back a laugh from where she still hid behind her mother, so I counted it as a win so far.

"Now Miss Granger, while we wait for Griphook to finish his work, allow me to give you a little lesson on some of the residence you'll encounter in the magical world. This right here," I patted Griphook's head a little bit harsher than I needed to, "is a Goblin. The Bankers and misers of the magical world. Goblins are a race magical beings renowned for their high intelligence and famed for their gift in forging metal. Despite their diminutive size and their current profession, goblins are, pound for pound, stronger than the average human and consider themselves first and foremost as a warrior race.

"Do not allow their adorable appearances and those ridiculous little bow-ties they insist on wearing fool you, goblins are fearsome fighters. Many wars of wizards were lost because they underestimate the little buggers. One battle was actually lost because an entire division of wizards just fell down in laughter when they were faced with a line of three foot tall armored goblins charging them, tiny swords held above their head as they screamed their high pitched battle cries. By the time the wizards managed to restrain their laughter, the goblins were on them and they found out the hard way how deadly goblins were with those tiny blades and how effective their enchanted armour and weapons were.

"Also take note that goblins are notoriously quick tempered. As a warrior race the place a great deal of value their honour, and take any slight to it as a grave insult, so be sure to treat them with all the respect they deserve."

Naturally, I had my tail waving in front of Griphook's face the entire time, blocking his sight and tinkling his nose as I tried to disturb his work while pretending that I was completely unaware of how bothersome my actions were. But Griphook, ever the trooper, carried on without so much as slowing. It was admiral of him really, to try and pretend I wasn't here, but it was an effort doomed to fail from the start.

"Goblins also have a deep seated hated for humans – wizards in particular. So if a goblin ever treats you rather rudely, don't take it personally, they treat all humans that way. Think of them as little Nazis, but instead of Jews in particular they just hate people in general. Now that I think about it," I leaned forward to look down at Griphook, "under a certain light Griphook does look remarkably like a little Hitler, doesn't he?

To demonstrate my point I swung my tail in front of Griphook's face and curl it under his nose so that it hung like a mustache. With a partial application of a spell, I turned most of my tail invisible, leaving just a small two inch patch still visible. A two inch patch that happened to be right beneath his nose, making Griphook appear as if he grown old Adolf's mustache.

To complete the image I conjured myself an old Nazi officer clothing, a green and brown uniform decorated with an iron cross medal, along with an adorable hat that fit snugly on my feline head. Bringing my feet sharply together I saluted, raising a paw high in the air as I intoned, " _Heil, mein Führer!_ "

Hermione, who had looked torn between feeling amused and scandalized up to now, took one look at me in my kitty Nazi uniform and had to bury her face into her mother's side to stop herself from laughing aloud.

"Ah, yes, Adolf. What a wonderful man." Griphook paused momentarily in his writing to smile, not at all offended by the comparison or by the Hitler mustache he was currently sporting, before returning to his work. "We goblins really admire his work. A true artist, that one was. Pity he died so young, if only he had more time to continue his work then perhaps there would be less of you for me to deal with."

"Why," Mr Granger ventured hesitantly, uncertain on how to take Griphook's words, "do goblins hate wizards so much?"

"That is not a simple answer as it may at first seem. The history between goblins and wizards is a long one, going back many centuries. It is a topic I intend to cover in class, as it involves several interesting wars and rebellions, but sufficient to say that the bad blood between wizards and goblins have been caused by fault on both sides. Whether due to perceived insults, real or imagined, cultural misunderstanding, breach of contracts-"

"Goblins never broke any contracts Mr Mendax." Griphook added in sharply as he kept on writing. He reached up with his spare hand to push my mostly invisible tail away from his face. "It's always the wizards who broke their words. Oaths breakers."

"And I never claimed that wizards were innocent Griphook. But neither were the Goblins." Dismissing my uniform, along with the hat, I looked to the Grangers. "As I have already said goblins highly value honour, keeping one's promise to them is paramount. To break one's word, especially in a written contract, is tantamount to stabbing you in the back, a sign of the ultimate betray. Which is why whenever a wizard breaches one of the clauses of a contract, no matter how minor, goblins would often demand harsh punishments. And if that wizard happens to get away unpunished, the entire goblin race is more often than not willing to go to war over the matter. It's actually cited as the primary cause for two of their rebellions over the centuries."

"And many wizards were killed under goblin blades for their arrogance." Griphook added in cruelly.

"That's true," I admitted and looked back down at the goblin, "but we still kicked your asses far more often than you did ours, didn't we? If I remember correctly we officially lost only one of the last seven Goblin Rebellions."

"What is this ' _we'_ I keep hearing." Griphook dipped his quill in the ink pot, "You never participated in any of those wars. If I recall correctly, you did nothing but sit on the sidelines of the battlefields with a bowl of fish and watched as we fought, alternating between cheering or heckling one side or the other on, depending how much entertainment we were giving you. It became particularly infuriating when you would began throwing scraps of fish at us whenever you got bored."

"Come on Griphook, you still haven't let that go? I swear if I thought you were about to pull up the visor of your helmet, I wouldn't have tossed that fish at your face. Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge over that after all these years."

"…No." Liar. Despite not looking up from his ledger, I could tell by the way the veins on his head pulsed beneath my feet that Griphook was furious.

He was right though, about me sitting on the sidelines. Why would I ever want to join a fight over goblin and human stupidity? War in general was stupid, yet somehow those fools made it look even more so. So I washed my hands from the entire mess. If they wanted to kill each other so badly, then by all means feel free, just don't drag me into it. I planned to do nothing but watch the free entertainment from the sidelines, it's not like it had anything to do with me anyway.

Now if there had been a cat rebellion however, that would have been a completely different matter. Now there was a worthy cause that I would gladly join. Too long have my feline brethren been denied our rightful place as the rulers of the world. If the uprising ever comes you'll see me at the head of kitty army, leading the charge into every battle. _Viva la Kitty!_ Our enemies would flee in face of our might…or surrender in the face of our adorableness; either way, victory and the world would be ours.

Now if only my fellow cats weren't too lazy to bother, we'd see it happen.

"As I was saying," I returned to the matter on hand, "human-goblin relation is marred with a long history of hostility and war, which has led to a lot of bad blood on both sides. Though there is more to it than what we just talked about, it should give you a general idea on why goblins hate wizards so badly. Well except for me. I know for a fact that goblins have a special place in their black little hearts for me." I thumped on Griphook's head again with my back leg, hard enough to make it bob, "Isn't that right Griphook? You lot love me, don't you, you Umpa-Lumpa reject, you?"

"That is correct Mr Mendax." Griphook confirmed as he focused on his work, "We love you, to use your metaphor, like a Nazi loves to shower a Jew."

I threw my paws around Griphook's shinny pulsing head and hugged the stuffing out of it. "Oh, I love you too Griphook."

Griphook paused in writing and turned his eyes towards his quill, contemplating its sharp metallic tip as he twirled it between his fingers. I knew that somewhere in that tiny goblin brain of his, he was seriously considering stabbing me with it. Regretfully reason must have taken hold in the last second because he just sighed at put it down.

Pity, it's been years since I managed to make a Goblin snap. Not since 1908 when I had that new teller Ribsnapper chase me around the lobby, swinging a sword he managed to snatch from one of the guards at me while screaming a goblin battle cry like a ranging lunatic.

Ah, good times.

Griphook shut the ledger with a thump, before crossing his hands over it. "Mr Mendax, it appears I have some time to spare for you. Would you please get off?"

"Why?" cocking my head from where I still tightly clung to his own. "I thought you would like the experience of having hair a full head of hair on you bald head for once Griphook."

"I see I'm not the only one he managed to drive crazy." Mr Granger added wryly.

"Yes, Mr Mendax has a knack of driving people to insanity; he has made it something of an art form over the years." Griphook stated dryly, "Do not allow is apparent ignorance fool you, if Mr Mendax is causing you to pull your hair out in sheer frustration, then it is safe to presume he is doing it on purpose."

I pointedly ignored the accusing looks Mr Granger sent me.

"Now _Mr_ _Mendax,_ " Griphook said, emphasizing my last name, "how can I help you?"

The goblins were one of the few races who still remembered who I really was – one of the prices of opening an account with them. They knew that I'd rather to keep that little secret hidden, so that piece of knowledge was perhaps their only true hold over me. But I also knew that Griphook's threat was an empty one.

The goblins of Gringotts and I have a long history together, and in the early years most of it rather bitter. For most of my youth we had honestly been trying to kill each other. It was only after a long and messy conflict which benefited no one, that we learned to make our peace. Neither of us could stand the other but we've came to an agreement that more or less boils down to 'I won't mess with them, and they won't mess with me'. It was why I couldn't have joined the rebellion even if I had wanted to – which I hadn't – and it was the primary reason why the goblins have never made a seriously attempt to kill me. Though I know several of them that they sorely wished to.

Griphook's little bluff was just a childish attempt to warn me off, something I considered a sign that I was wearing on his patience and that I better back off. A pity too, maybe if I wasn't guiding the Grangers I would have pushed a little harder just to see what happens, but alas, duty calls.

"Well," hoping of his head, I turned and faced Griphook, "I'm here to pick up the Hogwarts's funds for one Hermione Granger."

Grumbling, Griphook pushed himself off his stool and without a word made his way to the back.

"Um," I looked around towards Mrs Granger, "Hogwarts's funds?"

"Ah, that's right. I forgot to mention this didn't I." I straighten up from my place at the counter and began to explain. "You do remember how back at the house I explained that all people with magic are required by law to be trained in magic?" I received a round of nods in response.

An untrained magic user was an extremely dangerous individual.

Accidental magic just doesn't suddenly stop happening as you grow older, rather they increase in frequency and intensity with as the amount of magic you could command continued to grow as you aged. Only proper training can you teach a young wizard to harness their powers enough to stop accidental bursts of magic. Without that training a wizard's power will run rampant for the rest of their lives, and while that isn't dangerous as a child when you could only command a minuscule amount of magic, an adult has enough raw power to potentially bring down an entire building over their heads.

Which is why everybody born with magic must learn to control it, both for their own sake and everyone else's too.

"Well, legally, you are not required to go to Hogwarts specifically to study. You have other options available to you, such as studying in a different institute or even hiring a private tutor. Though I must warn you away from the second option as that can be a prohibitively expensive endeavor and rarely as effective as learning in a magical school." It was strange how that worked. You'd think that having one-on-one lessons made it more effective to teach a child but that was rarely ever the case. Be it due to the magic-rich environment of a magical institute or having other students studying beside you, children just seemed to learn magic so much better at a magical school.

"And that comes to the most common problem, paying for your education. As you can imagine not everyone can afford to pay for a private school, which why is Hogwarts is free for all of its students. While the property itself is privately owned, Hogwarts is a publicly funded school Mrs Granger. The Ministry of Magic cover the costs of the magical born children while first generation wizards and witches, such as Miss Granger here, are funded by the British Government. So long as you are a resident of the British Isles, everything including school supplies will be covered. The only entrance requirement other than being of proper age and sound of mind is to have sufficient levels of magic."

And for a very good reason too. Unlike with muggles, where the worst that could happen with an uneducated child is a dull mind and a future doomed to low paying menial work, if magical child doesn't get a proper education you're left with a potential ticking time bomb on your hand. And no one wanted that.

"Wait, the British Government pays for Hogwarts?" Mr Granger questioned skeptically. "You mean they know?"

"Of course they know." I replied, my tail swishing behind me. "Have you forgotten that the SAS were the ones to take down Voldemort?"

"Yes, I do but you made it sound like only a very small part of the government was aware of magic. If they are setting aside funds to pay for schooling, then it means they are actively involved in the magical world."

"Mr Granger, do you honestly think we can hide the existence of magic from everyone without outside help." I pointed to the direction of Charring Cross. "Having you seen the CCTVs lining the streets? They're everywhere theses days. Magic is all well and good but it doesn't really mix well with technology."

I shook my head, "No Mr Granger, the magical world cannot remain hidden without help. We've had a cooperative relationship with the British Government for a very long time, though it has improved greatly since Voldemort's demise. If you wanted to be really technical about it, then the Ministry of Magic could be considered to be a branch of the British Government, though one that is entirely self-governed and is afforded a lot more independence than any other branch. But even with their help it is getting harder to hide the existence of magic with every passing year. It is very possible that a day will come in the not too distance future where we simply cannot continue to hide, and will be forced to come out into the open. But for time being we will continue to remain hidden."

Magic hasn't always been kept a secret from the world. For most of history the existence of magic was common knowledge among the average man. It was only after the invention of guns and other creations of mankind that convinced the magical world to hide itself from them, for their own safety. Before then, everyone new magic was real.

And who knows, maybe one day they will again.

But not today.

My ears swivel on my head as I caught the sound of coins shifting behind me and with barely a thought, I hopped neatly to one side just as a heavy bag of Galleons slammed down onto the spot where my tail had been a moment earlier.

"Here are your funds Mr Mendax." Griphook frowned in disappointed before leaping back onto his stool. Pulling the ledger open, Griphook returned to his writing and without so much as an upward glance he said, "Now if that is all, would you kindly leave."

"Of course," I readily agreed. As I hopped off the counter and back onto Hermione's shoulder, I hooked the pouch with my tail and flicked it over to Mr Granger, who just manged to keep from dropping it. "As always it's a pleasure seeing you again Griphook. Hope to see you soon."

Griphook said nothing as he focused on his work, studiously ignoring my presence while the Grangers began to make they way out of the bank.

Turning to Hermione, "Look at the cute little buggers." I said a false whisper that was loud enough for the everyone in the lobby to hear, "Thinking that wearing those incredulous little bow-ties of theirs would make them look oh so professional instead of positively adorable."

Several tellers paused in their work to glance self-consciously down at said bow-ties that all Gringotts's Goblins seem required to wear.

Griphook's feathered quill snapped in two as he finally lost his temper, "Get out!"

* * *

"Do you have to antagonise them?" Mr Granger sent a worried glance over his shoulder as we hurried down Gringotts's steps.

"Yes," I nodded firmly from where I sat perched on Hermione, "Yes I do."

The goblins hated me – a feeling that was mutual I assure you – but they couldn't do a single thing to hurt me. So instead they went out of their way to let their feelings be known, taking every opportunity they could to try and rile me up.

Little did they know I actually enjoyed our exchange of barbed comments, and looked forward to it every time I visited. It was the only reason why I still banked here really. If they ever stopped and started to treat me politely I would probably never set foot in Gringotts again if I could ever help it.

I jumped in surprised as I felt a hand hook itself around the trunk of my body and the next thing I knew, I was lifted off Hermione's shoulders and into the air.

"Hello professor." A feminine voice greeted, exasperated amusement colouring her tone, "Aggravating the poor goblins again I see."

Blinking in bewilderment, I looked up at the face of my captor, only to feel my ears fold back onto my skull with displeasure as I realised who it was.

' _Oh no,_ _the_ _Potters._ _'_

* * *

 _ ***Chapter End***_

 _ **Author's notes:**_ Little bit of fun, a little bit of jokes, with a sprinkle of world building tossed in, not much but I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

I personally find I do my best writing when it comes to character interaction, which there will be a lot in this story, especially when we reach Hogwarts and meet the main cast - which should be in a couple of chapters. And Hogwarts is where the real plot begins and where we get into the meat of the story. I can't wait to show you what I have planned in store, from the Hogwarts staff to the sorting, as like most of work this fic will go in a completely different direction from canon.

Next Chapter: The Potters. Look forward to it, and please be sure to leave a review on your way out.


	4. Chapter 4: Cats and Birds

_Chapter 4:_

 _Cats and Birds._

* * *

"Pretty kitty."

"No!" I batted the hands away as they tried to reach me, shifting in place on Lily's shoulders in an attempt to her head between myself and the owner of those grabby hands. Finding a spot just out of her reach, I sent a stern glare down. "Bad human, bad."

"Oh, just let her play with you Professor." Lily laughed. She turned to look to her right shoulder, where I was currently perched on, her emerald green eyes twinkling with mirth. "She won't hurt you."

"Let her play– are you joking?" I gawked open mouthed at the red-haired woman before pointing down at my molester. "You don't know where _it's_ even been."

The 'it' in question was a young child, a red haired little girl with green eyes set on a face filled with childlike innocence that most could only have described as angelic – but not I! I wasn't fooled but its harmless exterior, I knew whats it true nature was and I wasn't about to let its grubby hands anywhere near my fur.

"Pretty kitty," the child, little Rose Potter, giggled with delight at my actions. Probably thinking it was some kind of game she reached up with those grabby hands of hers towards my tail, which I barely managed to yank out of her reach in time.

"Down human, down." I commanded to little effect, before turning to glare at her mother who was clearly was having far too much at my expense. "Do you have any idea how many germs there are in a human mouth? One bite and I'm guaranteed to get an infection. I refused to let it touch me until she's been properly vaccinated."

"Kitty~~!" Rose squealed from where she sat in her mother's arms.

"No," I batted her hand again, "I said no – _oh, meooowwww~~."_ Whatever indignation I felt melted away as I was overcome by the most wonderful sensation of having my ears properly scratch. I slumped down onto Lily's shoulders and I found myself purring in pleasure as skilled digits properly tended to my ears.

"Look Rose, scratch here." I was feeling far too content to move and couldn't muster an ounce of resistance as Lilly helped her daughter higher up to join her in her scratching. "Like this."

Rose giggled as she began helping her mother in scratching my ears.

Sleepily, I forced open one eye to half-hearted glare at the evil redhead, "I shall devour your very soul." I promised, though I couldn't manage to force any real heat into my voice.

"Oh, you are a goddess, _meow_." My back left foot started kicking involuntarily as they scratched just the right spot, "When we cats rise up and take our rightful place as rulers of the world, I will be sure to have you spared. I'll even make sure to leave you and your daughter a place by side as the royal ear scratches."

"I'm honored." Lily replied blandly. Somehow I got the impression that she didn't mean it. How very strange.

After a couple of minutes, Lily ceased her scratching as Rose seemed to have her fill. Cradling her daughter back into her arms Lily shook her head at me. "For someone who teaches children for a living Professor, you seem to have an awful dislike of them."

"That is not true." I replied as I stretched and rose onto my feet, easily keeping my balance on her shoulders. "I adore children, especially those eager to learn. A young mind ready to be filled with knowledge is truly a most wondrous thing. But this," I bobbed Rose on the nose with a paw, causing her to cross her eyes before laughing hysterically, "is not a child. This is a baby, an existence that does nothing but eat, cry, poop and drool all day long. Nothing more than a human garbage disposal, with all the intelligence of a lemming and with just as much survival instincts I'd wager."

Lily shook her head at my assent but said nothing, deciding to leave the matter be.

We were making our way down Diagon Alley along with the Potters, who had decided to tag along with the Grangers as they shopped for their own school supplies. We already had gotten the children's wands and most of their school supplies, all that was left was their robes and we'd be home free. A few paced ahead of us, Hermione was chatting animatedly with the Potter brood; Harry and Ivy Potter – the former should be starting Hogwarts this year along with Hermione while latter will be joining her brother the following year.

Both Mr and Mrs Granger were trailing a little behind us and the children, deep in a discussion about their profession with James Potter. Potter seemed to be having trouble wrapping his mind around how muggle dentistry is supposed to work, his bewilderment only growing as Dan and Emma tried to explain how they fixed teeth by drilling holes in them.

A hooting sound drew my attention back to the children.

"Which reminds me," I focused my sights on the foul being in question, "what is that?"

"What is what?" Lily glanced at me and asked.

"That." I pointed, "What is that?"

"Hedwig?" Lily asked as she caught sight of the thing that was currently resting on her son's shoulder. "That's Harry's new pet owl."

"And why," I questioned in a tone of voice that made it obvious how stupid I thought she was for allowing such a thing to happen, "would you subject your only son to the company of such a horrid creature when you could get him a perfectly good cat or kneazel instead?"

"Is that jealousy I hear your voice Professor?" James Potter interjected into the conversation, stepping up to his wife's side to shoot me a teasing look. Apparently he had given up trying to understand the finer details of dentistry.

"Jealous, of what?" I scoffed, "What possibly reason would I be jealous from that thing?"

As if it knew we were talking about it, the white buzzard that they named Hedwig rotated its head half way around to look at me, its beady little yellow eyes narrowing into a glare as it locked onto mine. Naturally I refused to look away from the inferior creature and matched the thing's glare with one of my own.

"Oh~, I don't know." Potter's grin turned mocking. "Maybe because owls are the most popular pets among children while cats, such as yourself, are only a distant second."

"That's only because the unwashed masses don't have the refined taste to know what a glorious animal cats are." I told him, keeping my eyes on the bird while it did the same to me. "And there are children out there that believe picking their noses and eating their boogers is the height of fine dining. So forgive me if I find that their choice in pets doesn't hold much meaning to me. In my honest opinion, owls are nothing more than an animated feather dusters with an over inflated ego who live under the constant delusion that they're mailmen."

"Professor, now you're just being petty." Lily reprimanded, "Owls are one of the most beautiful and majestic animals on the planet."

"You call them beautiful and majestic," I said while still locked in the staring contest with the accursed owl, "I have a different name for them."

"What?" James asked.

"Lunch." I told him, keeping my green eyes on Hedwig's yellow as I slowly and deliberately licked my lips.

The owl lurched, taken aback by words, before she ruffled its feathers and puffed up with indignation, hooting angry at me.

James Potter barked out a laugh. "I can't believe you, the big bad Hogwarts's Professor, are feeling insecure over one little owl."

"I don't want to hear that from a has been like you Potter." I countered.

"Has been?" James squawked, all amusement leaving his from as he turned to glare at me with indignation, "What that's supposed to mean?

"It means that for a man who claims to be the 'greatest prankster' to ever set foot on Hogwarts," I air quoted 'greatest prankster', a rather impressive feat when you consider I didn't have any fingers, "you have been living on the straight and narrow for years now. Face it, your glory days are long over. Ever since you married your wife here she has been wearing the pants in the family. Just give up and admit it Potter, you got whipped."

"I'm not whipped!" James denied. "And I'm the one who wears the pants in this family, not Lily."

"Did you say something honey?" Lilly asked, smiling sweetly at her husband.

James, immediately cowed, smiled sheepishly and murmured. "Nothing dear."

"You nabbed yourself a real winner here Potter." I muttered to myself as I lowered myself onto a more comfortable position on lily's shoulders. Crossing my paws beneath my head, I carried on in a louder voice, "Besides, even if you weren't whipped, you'd still be old news. Your legend is already being eclipsed by younger and finer blood. The Weasley twins still haven't even started their third year yet but already some of the Professors are claiming that they're worse than you and your old crew ever was. Face it Potter, you time is over."

"That's right." James immediately brightened up at the mention of the twins. "Arthur's boys, I heard about how those two troublemakers are carrying on the Marauders' noble tradition of pranking." Potter looked almost proud at the thought, but a moment later his good mood seemed to extinguish as his expression turned sour. "Now if only they weren't snakes, I'd be happy."

"Now James," Lily chided in an air that made it clear she had repeated the same thing a many time before, "there is nothing wrong with being a Slytherin."

"Of course you'd say that." James pouted petulantly, "You're friends with one. No good slimy snakes."

"Hello, Head of Slytherin here." I raised a paw and waved. "But please, go on. Don't stop on account of me, it's not like I don't enjoy hearing every student under my responsibility insulted. Please tell me more."

James had the grace to blush. "Sorry Professor," He shot me a sheepishly smile. "I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that had my share of bad experience with Slytherin when I was at Hogwarts."

"So I take it." I answered blandly. I hadn't been in charge of the Slytherin back then, it was Slughorn, so I had no idea if there was any real merit to his resentment to my house or not. "But getting back to the topic on hand, I'm honestly surprised that no one saw the twin's sorting into Slytherin coming from a mile away. Where else would they fit in?"

"Gryffindor." James answered without hesitation, "There is no better house for a prankster than there."

"Ha, as if." Shaking my head as I chuckled. "Look, I understand that time has the tendency of distorting the reputations of people, but Godric Gryffindor would not have tolerated a bunch of trouble making pranksters in his house. The man was the most law abiding person you'd ever meet, as straight-laced as they come. I have no idea what kind of image you built up of him in your head but the real Godric probably resembles Madam Bones more than whatever you are picturing him out to be."

"Really? I never knew that." Lily turned her curious green eyes to her shoulder, where I was currently perched. "From the way some of the lions kept going on about him when I in Hogwarts you'd think he would have been a more free-spirited person. Are you sure that you aren't the one that's misinformed?"

I shot her a deadpanned look. "Lady Potter, I _am_ the History of Magic Professor. If there is anyone who knows about historical magical figures, then it would be me."

"That's right, I forgot about that." James looked up in thoughtfully, one hand scratching his chin before shrugging. "I honestly can't remember a single one of my History of Magic classes when I was a student."

"That's because you slept through all of yours James." Lily reminded him.

"But I wasn't the only who slept through old Binns droning." James's smile turned sly as she looked to his wife. "I recall one or two times when I heard a cute sounding snore coming from a certain redhead."

Lily smacked her husband on the shoulder but didn't refute his words, her cheeks gaining a light dusting of red.

"Well as I was saying, I can't imagine why anyone would expect the twins to go to anywhere else but Slytherin. I have never met a more conniving, scheming pair of children in all my years." I looked to Lilly, "Can you believe those two had once tried to bribe me with _catnip_ of all things, just so that I would look the other way while they set up a prank _._ Me," I placed a paw on my chest, "their Professor _and_ the Head of their House, they actually tried to bribe me."

It was true too; those little rascals actually tried to bride me with catnip, a full basket of the stuff. Freshly picked too.

I can't remember the last time I've been so proud.

"Really?" James asked, suddenly looking very interested, "How did that go?

"Well, let's just say that I happened to be indisposed when someone managed to sneak into Severus's private quarters and replace his shampoo with magic resistant blonde hair dye. Bright _glowing_ golden blonde. It was like the sun dawning whenever the poor boy stepped into a room."

James guffawed, his laughter so loud that the children paused to turn around and stare, before Harry and Ivy shook their head at their dad's antics and pulled Hermione ahead. And though Lily tried to hide it, I knew she was just as amused by the mental image of her friend with blonde hair as her husband was by the way her shoulders rose and fell.

My Lord, those two were unbelievable, and Molly Weasley thought that they would end up in Gryffindor. The reaction of the Weasley matriarch when she found out her children were in Slytherin was explosive to say the least. You'd think she might have suspect the possibility after Percy had ended up in Slytherin, or at least gotten used to the idea, but no, her reaction was just as over the top as it had been the first time. My ears are still ringing just from thinking about the Howlers. Boy did that woman have a set of lungs.

But really, she of all people should have not expected anything else from them. As their mother she must have known what kind of people the twins were. I mean I know for a fact that those two have been saving up every Knut, Sickle and Galleon that they could their hands on since they were nine all so that they can save up enough to open their own joke shop one day. They even had commandeered a tiny room in one of the secret passages that they thought I didn't know about to experiment in, trying to create new jokes products and potions. They even once showed me their notebook, a thick tome filled to the brim with designs of their future store and what kind of products they planned to sell. It was all rather impressive.

Cunning and ambition in spades. No, the hat chose rightly when he sent them to my house.

" _MEOW!"_ My eyes snapped while open as I yelped, blinding whit pain flashing through my mind as something tugged on my tail. The next thing I knew I found myself rocketing high into the air as I leapt in reflex.

"Kitty~~!" Little Rose Potter clapped her hands in glee as she cheered; the little monster was obviously very pleased with the reaction received from pulling my tail and not at all repented.

Before gravity managed to take its hold on me and pull me to the ground, I apparated to a nearby rooftop. Sparing a quick glance at the state of my poor mangled tail before looking down over the ledge at the Potters, making sure that I remained far, far away from the girl with the too grabby hands.

"Mark my words Rose Potter," I yelled down from the rooftops at the toddler, giving her the most menacing expression I had, "you will rue the day you laid your hands on my tail. For this sin, no punishment will be too harsh, no torture too cruel. I shall hunt you down to your dying days until I get my revenge. I may have made the foolish mistake of letting my guard down today because you had been so quiet, but I shall never make the mistake of underestimating you again. You will know pain Rose Potter. Suffer, you hear me, suffer!"

Sometimes I hated that I looked so damn cute. It's hard to properly cow someone when you looked like the cutest thing ever, because even my most menacing face just made Rose squeal with gleeful laughter.

Yes, a formidable foe this one.

"Oh stop overreacting Professor and come back down." Lily called up to me, holding the abomination she called a daughter in her arms. James was too busy trying to high-five his youngest to bother saying anything to me.

"Come down?" I gaped at the women. "No, not on your life. I refuse to get anywhere near that thing and her grabby little hands. What if she goes for my poor tail again?"

"What about the Grangers." Lily tried to reason by nodding towards Mr and Mrs Grangers who were now standing with the children. "You can't just leave them here."

"We were almost done shopping anyway, all that's left are the school robes and they don't nee me to do that. You can take them there, you were going there anyway."

Lily just rolled her eyes, knowing me well enough to understand that I was being serious. There was no way I was going to set foot on that street so long as Rose was within a one mile radius. I refused to put my poor tail through any more abuse than it's already been through.

"Fine you big baby," Lily relented, "we'll watch over the Grangers while you go run and hide from a tiny little toddler."

"Kitty go bye-bye?" Rose asked, cocking her head as she brought a finger up to her mouth.

"Yes, baby. The scaredy cat is leaving." Lily told her daughter, "Say goodbye Rose."

"Bye-bye Kitty," Rose raised both her arms high above her head and started to wave, "bye-bye."

I gave Rose a glare filled with - _all-of-my-hate-_ before I turned and stalked away, planning to get back to Hogwarts.

See, this, this is precisely why I hated spending time with the Potters. Whenever I'm around them something always goes wrong, every single time. I didn't know if it was in their blood or if one of their ancestors had a cursed cast on him that was passed down the Potter line, but it was as if they one giant magnet for trouble, all of them, even the kids.

And more often than not when that trouble strikes, like lightening to a lightning rod, it happens to strike me.

Dear Lord I just hope that none of them ever end up in my House. Better start bribing the Hat, just in case.

* * *

 _ ***Chapter End***_

 **Author's Notes:** I had always thought that should Slytherin stop being the house of 'evil' like in the books, then the Weasley twins would make brilliant Slytherins. God knows they're cunning and ambitious enough. And when they were given the choice of going to the house with a trolling cat or Mcgonagall, well the choice was easy.

And we have a glimpse of the Potters in this alternative history. Hope you enjoyed the reveal. Oh, and in order of birth, the Potter children are : Harry, Ivy and Rose.

Next up: Hogwarts and the staff. After that the sorting and Mendax's first class.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know what you thought of it. And as always, thanks for reading.


End file.
